


Without Words

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, German National Team, M/M, Panicking, Realizations, Supportive Friend Manu, U21 Euros 2009, Yet Another Hallway Meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: It was Bene who first realized what he felt for Mats, how the way they always just drifted towards each other like two magnets was so much more than just an instant connection.





	Without Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mimihowedes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimihowedes/gifts).



> Well. This has been in the works since about May, and it's been a journey and a half. The last few months I had no ambition to post or even finish this, but after a long talk with Mirane that changed – hence why this is gifted to her, you really motivated me to keep going ♡ I'm still not sure if I like it, and the style is definitely a bit different from my other writing (which might be because it's heavily based on a drabble-like headcanon) but I still hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As usual, I can't thank my beta [Khalela](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla) enough, you're the most amazing person ♡♡ Thank you for always putting up with my stuff and doing such amazing work.

It was Bene who first realized what he felt for Mats, picked up on the way they always just drifted towards each other like two magnets.

They first met at the Youth-Regionalliga final in 2006, back when Mats still worn a red jersey and both of them had horrible haircuts. At first, Bene thought it was just an instant connection. He hadn’t expected the smile that this random Bayern defender (tall, handsome, a voice at the back of his mind had whispered) directed at him when they clasped hands before the game, but he was confused enough to instantly return it, making the other boy grin even wider.

He was surprised when after Schalke’d won and Bayern lost, said dark-haired defender walked up to him, still grinning. “Do you want to exchange jerseys?” he asked, looking smug, as if he already knew the answer. Bene couldn’t have denied him even if he wanted to.

They talked a bit after that, nothing much, just a normal short conversation for boys -  footballers - their age. A short introduction, a bit of teasing, a bit of banter, exchanging a few sentences about the game, but Bene remembered that it felt as if he was talking to someone he’d known forever, and not someone who was a virtual stranger.

In the next few years, Bene forgot about the Bayern player who had treated him like a friend instead of an opponent. Neither did he check the list of his future teammates when he was first called up to the U21, something Manuel, who’d already played with them for half a year, called him careless for, but he could feel a smile tugging at his lips when he abruptly came face to face with a certain familiar curly haired defender again, who beamed back at him as soon as their eyes had met.

“Hi!” Pointedly ignoring Manuel’s slightly affronted “You know him?” in the background, he followed an instinct as he pulled the boy – Mats, he remembered – into a short hug, who eagerly returned it, giving his shoulder a little squeeze, beaming down at him.

It was probably in that moment when they officially became friends, and to this day Bene still prided himself in the fact that he was the first Schalker to know about Mats’ upcoming transfer to Dortmund (as well as probably the only one excited about it), the one Mats called when he felt down. They phoned each other at least once a week and even met up every now and then after Mats had settled down in Dortmund, now that they weren’t separated by several hours of travelling anymore.

By the time they were both called up for the U21 Euros, they were already something close to best friends, and quickly became nearly inseparable over the course of the tournament, with being able to spend their whole time together for weeks on end.

It felt almost ironic to Bene that they not only had to share a room but also a bed, but both he and Mats agreed that they liked it that way and usually stayed up talking for hours, despite their coach sending them disapproving looks whenever they showed up to breakfast five minutes too late, with drowsy eyes and noticeable bedheads, leaning onto each other for support. (He threatened to separate them several times, but in the end, he knew they’d find a way anyway.)

And once Manuel had stopped lamenting about Bene leaving him alone and that they had to keep up a strong front as the only Schalke players at the time and that it was their duty to keep away from any BVB players (“We can’t be seen fraternizing with the enemy, Bene!”), Mats became a regular presence at the table the two of them had before only shared with Mesut.

When they returned to their hotel after they won the second game, still hyped from their win, adrenaline not quite out of their systems yet, Hrubesch put on the Spain-England game on the screen in the lounge, and most of the players had gathered in front of it, knowing they could profit from watching England and analyzing their tactics.

Bene had gone to take another shower real quick (was it supposed to be this hot in Sweden?) and when he came back down all of the chairs were already occupied, most of the boys howling and hollering at the screen in some way or another. He sighed, almost ready to call it a night and go to bed early, but before he could turn around, Mats spotted him around and looked at him questioningly, probably realizing that Bene would likely have to sit on the floor if he wanted join them. To Bene’s surprise, the younger defender didn’t make any fuss, instead shuffling to the side on his plush chair, patting the soft material, presenting him with a cheeky smirk. Bene only hesitated for a minute before accepting the invitation. It left both of them with only half a chair, not nearly enough for two boys over six feet tall, but after initial struggles (namely Mats almost falling off when he shifted after England scored their second goal) Bene made it work by unceremoniously slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

It was comfortable, too, and Bene felt himself drifting away slowly, tiredness slowly taking control of his body. He noticed Manuel casting them a curious glance from where he was perched on the couch next to Mesut (who looked decidedly uninterested in the game, and seemed more engrossed in boredly typing something into his phone), but he didn’t think anything of it as his eyes slowly fell shut and his head lolled onto Mats’ shoulder.

He only woke up again when Mats gently shook his shoulder, blinking up at him with eyes so heavy that it felt like his eyelids were almost glued together.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. Don’t you think you’ll get more rest in an actual bed?” Mats’ voice was gentle, his face close to Bene's; so close that he could spot every tiny mole and the fine hair covering his chin and upper lip. For some reason Bene felt heat rise to his cheeks as he nodded, quickly untangling himself from his friend.

He didn’t remember how exactly they made it to bed that night. He did remember Mats crashing down next to him though, groaning before shuffling around, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep, keeping Bene from properly drifting away.

He remembered pondering how long this has been going on between them, this unspoken thing, and if it would have been different if they weren’t this young, this wide-eyed and inexperience. He remembered letting out a shaky breath when he realized how much he craved Mats’ proximity, how Mats’ smiles made his knees feel weak and how every time they touched it felt so familiar but overwhelming at the same time.

He remembered how he turned to face Mats and hesitated before lifting his hand to thread his fingers through Mats’ inky hair. He remembered shifting closer to him, before placing a kiss on his temple. Slow, deliberate, heavy with realization, but too tired to say more than a mumbled “sleep” as Mats drowsily blinked up at him, almost a bit confused, before his own eyes fell shut.

When they woke up the next morning with their limbs tangled together, it was Bene who didn’t let Mats go, pulling his arms just a bit tighter, happiness and confusion mixing in his stomach as he recalled last night’s realization, drunk on his feelings.

 

It was Mats who then turned his head around to look at Bene, drowsily blinking up at him. Mats who noticed Bene’s insecure smile that seemed so much softer than it ever had. He flinched a bit when he suddenly felt Bene’s hand gently stroking through his hair, a finger twirling around one of his curls, a touch he distantly remembered from the night before.

It was Mats who succumbed to the strange tension, who leaned in and pressed their mouths together in the most innocent of kisses.

In the end, Mats could probably have blamed it on the fact that he wasn’t fully awake yet and everything had felt like a scene out of a dream, because only moments after they separated, Mats freaked out.

He felt his eyes grow wide and dread settling in his stomach, with panic taking full control of his body. He almost tangled his legs up in the sheet as he attempted to flee, but managed to avoid it just barely.

It was only when he stood in the deserted hotel hallway, dressed only in his sweatpants, that he comprehended the gravity of what he’d done.

He wasn’t sure what to do with the information that he might just be in love with Bene.

Mats was nineteen, hadn’t experienced love before, and he almost felt sick when he now put a name to the feelings he had for  Bene, with his sunshine smile, a galaxy of freckles on his face and the summer ocean in his eyes. It was an enormous feeling, filling him up from head to toe, both with dread and some kind of uncontained excitement. Bene, his colleague, a _man_.

His vision was blurring in front of him, he took a few deep breaths, steadying himself by leaning against the wall. He didn’t know how long he’s been standing there, but by after a while it became clear that Benni didn’t intend to follow him.

Begrudgingly, Mats admitted he didn’t have the courage to return to their room himself.

He didn’t have his contacts in, so he had to squint a bit when checking the clock at the end of the hallway. He let out a relieved sigh when he realized it was only half past six, so the chances of anyone finding him like this (only in his underwear, hair a mess, probably still looking spooked) were quite low. Still, he didn’t want to take the chance of any hotel staff or even worse, one of their coaches, finding him like this. For a second he considered knocking on Schmelle’s door, before remembering that his Dortmund teammate was staying in the floor above them.

Just as he considered if he was desperate enough to actually make the trip upstairs instead of facing Bene, the door next to him opened. He could feel his muscles tense, his body ready to bolt, and he relaxed only slightly when he came face to face with a still half-asleep Manuel who blinked at him in surprise.

“Hi” Mats squeaked out.

“Hi?” He could see the brains in the ‘keepers brain working before he tilted his head a bit, looking uncannily like a giant puppy. “What exactly is it that you’re doing?”

Mats blanked, and after a moment of uncomfortable silence he then asked “Can I come in?”

Manuel, probably more than confused by now and already halfway out his door, nodded slowly before backtracking, holding the door open for him.

Mats released a breath of relief when he realized that he’d been correct, Manuel had a single room. (“For his big ego”, Bene had said. Mats had giggled so hard that he almost fell off his chair. It hadn’t even been particularly funny, but with Bene, he couldn’t help himself. In retrospect, that probably should have been a sign.)

He was lost in his thoughts until Manuel threw something at him. A pair of sweatpants and a shirt, both with the DFB logo on it. He shot him a curious look, but Manuel only shrugged.

“We’re roughly the same size. And judging from your expression, you didn’t seem in any condition to return to yours and Bene’s room.”

Mats dressed himself quickly. Manuel had sat down on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap. He looked curious, by now, his eyes gleaming, and verging on impatient.

Mats sighed, plopping down next to him. After a moment he groaned, putting his hands in front of his mouth.

“I kissed Bene.”

He was met with silence and an unreadable look.

“What? Don’t you have anything to say to that?”

Manuel tilted his head pensively before smacking his lips. “Did you expect me to be surprised?”

Mats gave him a blank look.

“I mean,” the goalkeeper run a hand through his short hair, messing it up even further, shaking his head. “Honestly? Up until five minutes ago I had kinda thought you were already past that stage. You probably don’t see it because you’re a part of it but … you two are so damn close.”

He smiled. “Y’know, I consider Bene a good friend of mine. But ever since he met you, it’s as if he forgets about my existence as soon as you’re around. It’s always ‘Mats this and Mats that’ – and to be honest, you're not all that much better.”

He leaned forward, putting a hand on Mats’ shoulder, gently squeezing it.

Mats nodded, slowly, Manuel’s words only slowly sinking in. “We’re …. We were never just friends, were we?”

A smile tugged at Manuel’s lips then. “It didn’t seem like it to me, no.”

“Fuck,” Mats groaned, burying his face in his hands. For a moment, they stood there in awkward silence. Then, abruptly, he turned around, walked towards the door, paused, and quick turned back to Manuel, shooting him a crooked smile. “Thanks man.”

The blonde nodded, looking a bit taken aback by the defender’s abruptness, but before he could say anything, Mats had already stepped into the hallway.

He ended up in the breakfast hall, the tables already decked. A waitress was still darting around the room, straightening napkins, adding another spoon here and there. Mats didn’t pay her any mind and sat down at their usual table, right by the windows, overlooking the hotel grounds. He stared at his empty plate, only looking up when someone pulled out the chair opposite him.

Manuel frowned, seemingly displeased by Mats’ grim demeanour, but the keeper soon got up again, making a beeline for the buffet, returning with not only with his plate piled high with food, but also two steaming mugs of coffee, placing one of them in front of Mats wordlessly.

Gradually, the rest of their teammates started pulling into the room. Mats startled when someone suddenly cleared his throat. Bene stood there, his shoulders slightly hunched. He seemed hesitant.

“Can I sit here?”

Mats stared at him for a second before looking at Manuel, who had frozen with his hand halfway up to his mouth, clutching a piece of bread. When Mats searched for Bene’s eyes again, he was taken aback by how much insecurity was reflected in them.

Mats nodded carefully. “Always. Always, Bene, really.”

The smile he got in return when Bene sat down next to Manuel was timid, but it made something stir deep in Mats’ stomach.

They ate in silence and it was Mats who, after hesitating only for a second, reached over the table and gently touched Bene’s hand with his own, luring out a smile from the blonde that was so blinding it could have rivalled the sun. Neither of them remembered how their fingers ended up interlocked, but Mats recalled Manuel pointedly staring out of the window, trying to give them an illusion of privacy.

They didn’t finish their breakfast. Mats had been chewing on a spoonful of cereal for minutes, his throat tight with the anticipation of unspoken feelings, unable to swallow, and Bene had been picking at his food ever since he’d sat down. Instead they kept glancing up at each other, making a game of who’d look away quicker. (Mats thought the blush rising on Bene’s cheeks was adorable.)

In the end, it was Mats who got up first, sighing as he announced that he wanted to go outside. His stomach made an excited little leap when Bene quickly stood up as well, smiling at Mats as he offered to join him.

They headed over to the training fields, deserted at this time of the day. Even if the sun was already burning down on their heads, the air was still cool. For a second Mats regretted not bringing a sweatshirt, still only dressed in Manuel’s sweatpants and slightly too-big t-shirt. At one point he must have grabbed Bene’s hand, the blonde’s palm warm against his own. When Mats shot him a questioning look, Bene only smiled in return, squeezing his hand.

They sat down on a bench, thighs touching, hands resting on them, still clasped. It was Bene who leaned in then, his nose softly bumping against Mats’, making heat rise on the dark-haired defender’s cheeks. It was Bene who initiated the second kiss, moving his lips against Mats’, tentatively, as if giving him the option to pull away if he wanted to.

Mats could feel Bene’s smile, taste it, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. It was hard to grasp that Bene, Schalke-Benedikt, was gonna be it for him. A few hours earlier, it had felt almost impossible, like something out of a crazy dream. When their lips had touched for the first time, it hadn’t felt real, but at the same time it had been the most sobering moment of Mats’ life.

Now, he realized that there had never been another possibility, not since the moment they’d first laid eyes on each other when they’d shaken hands before that one Regionalliga game, since he’d stripped his jersey and pushed it into Bene’s waiting hand, swapping red for royal blue for the first time. Not since they’d congratulated each other for a great game, since they’d felt that instant connection.

It was Bene who broke the kiss, this tentative meeting of lips, fumbled and awkward but familiar in a way that stole Mats’ breath; Bene who rested his forehead against Mats’ with a happy sigh when they parted.

Bene’s eyes were soft. One of his hands rested on Mats’ cheek, thumbing over the stubble growing in.

And Mats realized, that somehow, deep down, they must have known all along.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * I wasn't in this fandom in 2010 or even earlier, so any info on the boys, the first time they 'met' or the U21 Euros was lazily taken off the internet. I didn't do much research though, so there might be a lot of 'mistakes'; please point them out to me if something bothers you, thank you!
>   * Based on this [headcanon](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/post/160373090045/h%C3%B6mmels-39) of mine
>   * Title based on a GLORIA song called 'Stille' ... well, at least that was the inspiration
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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